


Not Quite Shakespeare

by everlovingdeer



Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [155]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Break Up, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Reconciliation, Romeo and Juliet References, Secret Relationship, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:53:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22462900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everlovingdeer/pseuds/everlovingdeer
Summary: “Of course,” Sanaa began, finally reaching the end of her essay if the triumphant way she rolled her shoulders was any indication, “there’s a Montague out there as well.”“Not that he’s much of a Romeo,” Rachael scoffed, thinking to the Slytherin Chaser. Knowing they would pick up on any sign of a reaction, I carefully steeled myself; by this point, I’d had enough practice. “Especially not towards muggle-borns.”
Relationships: Graham Montague/Original Female Character(s), Graham Montague/Reader
Series: Harry Potter Short Stories [155]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1461751
Comments: 2
Kudos: 74





	1. Not Quite Shakespeare

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally published to other sites on 09/10/19

With curfew ticking ever closer, I wanted nothing more than to get back to the common room. The sooner I got back to the common room, the sooner I could head right to my bed to continue reading my book in privacy. At least that way, I could draw my curtains around my bed so I didn’t have to listen to the teasing coming from my friends that sat around me. As if on cue, Rachael reached out to rap her knuckle against the battered hardcover of my book.

“How are you reading this _again?”_ she asked, and without needing to look at her, I knew she was already rolling her eyes.

“What’s the issue Uso?” I asked, peeking at her from over the top.

“Romeo and Juliet?” she asked incredulously, shaking her head. “You read it last week. And the week before that. And the week before _that_ –”

“So what?” I asked defensively, drawing the book once more towards me.

“The cover is practically falling off.” Rachael lowered her voice when Sanaa shot her an irritated look. “At least get another copy.”

“Hey!” I defended, “There’s nothing wrong with my book – it’s just a well-loved copy.”

With a scoff, Rachael went to say something. Only, she closed her mouth when Sanaa shot her yet another look. Together, Rachael and I fell into a smart silence because we knew exactly what would happen if we angered Sanaa and stopped her from doing her work.

“Why are you even bickering when we need to finish this essay?” Sanaa grumbled under her breath, pointing the feathered end of her quill between us. “Honestly Uso, at least Capulet got her essay finished and can waste her time rereading whatever book she wants.”

“Exactly,” I chimed, repressing the urge to stick my tongue out at Rachael before turning back to my book. “At least Jett has my back.”

Sanaa rolled her eyes, focusing on her work once more. Rachael shot one more look towards Sanaa before setting her quill down resolutely. Making sure that she wasn’t going to interrupt Sanaa during her work, she shuffled towards me in her chair. Knowing that I wasn’t going to get to the end of the scene at least – I marked my place in the book and set it aside.

“The only reason you read it so often is because of the name of the character,” she teased, doing absolutely anything to put off having to finish the essay.

“Well it’s not often you find someone with my name,” I rolled my eyes. I knew, despite all her teasing Rachael meant well and didn’t mean any harm. In fact, she’d been the one to gift me another copy of the play that I’d promised to begin using when this one wore itself thin.

“Of course,” Sanaa began, finally reaching the end of her essay if the triumphant way she rolled her shoulders was any indication, “there’s a Montague out there as well.”

“Not that he’s much of a Romeo,” Rachael scoffed, thinking to the Slytherin Chaser. Knowing they would pick up on any sign of a reaction, I carefully steeled myself; by this point, I’d had enough practice. “Especially not towards muggle-borns.”

Rolling my lips into my mouth as if to physically keep myself from speaking out, I picked up my book once more. Leaving them to their grumblings about the Slytherin who I knew they’d never spoken to, I leaned back in my chair to lose myself once more in the story. However, maybe this was my issue? Maybe if I’d said something to them, these conversations – talks about his character – would have stopped. Maybe it was my fault that I was unwilling to verbalise my disagreement because I knew to verbalise it would be the first step to confessing to everything.

Thankfully, the conversation came to an end and I didn’t have to listen to my friends as they continued to slate the boyfriend they weren’t aware I had. With Sanaa finished as well, Rachael finally got stuck into writing her essay and I let my mind slip away from my surroundings as I sunk into the book.

_‘Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorns’_

Reaching the quote, I couldn’t help but agree completely. Sighing softly, I was grateful that Anne wasn’t here. Oaks was the only one that knew the truth, the only one that had picked up on the change in my behaviour and had managed to get everything out of me. If she was here, if she’d managed to pin me to the spot with her eyes for longer, I would’ve caved eventually and told them all the truth. And if I told them the truth, I’d have broken the promise Graham and I had made to each other.

As curfew crept closer, we eventually decided to head back to the common room. Gathering my things, I prepared to shove them into my bag so I’d get back to the common room before curfew started. But my eyes settled onto a note, tucked into the bottom of my bag. The piece of parchment, crumpled under the things in my bag, was from Graham. His handwriting, looping and sharp, asked me to meet him in our usual place after curfew. Just when had he managed to sneak this into my bag?

I contemplated not going because I didn’t want to risk being caught – by Filch, by a teacher or even by my friends. But I also didn’t want to leave Graham on his own because I knew he’d wait. He’d wait for me to eventually turn up and meet him and I didn’t have a way of telling him that I wasn’t going to meet him tonight. My mind worked quickly, looking for an excuse I could give my friends for skipping out on them. Not that it took much.

As we walked out of the library, I made a vague comment about deciding to see our head of house about an issue I was facing in her lessons. Knowing that Professor Sprout was always open to welcoming members of her house to talk, they waved me away and told me to be careful on my way. I watched as they headed away, waiting until they turned the corner and then walked in the very opposite direction to Sprout’s office. Merlin, if Anne hadn’t been busy doing her rounds, she would’ve seen right through me. Thankfully she wasn’t.

Walking with cautious steps, I kept an ear out for any approaching footsteps that didn’t match my own. The very last thing I needed was for a Professor – especially Snape – to walk around the corner and catch me. And so, it took me almost twice as long, as usual, to get to the corridor of abandoned classrooms. Passing by the first few and walking into the fifth – far enough that prefects would’ve grown bored of checking – I didn’t bother to announce my presence. Pushing the door open and shutting it before the light from the classroom could bleed into the corridor, I looked around. I found Graham sitting, already waiting.

Eyes on mine, he smiled in a heartbeat and Merlin, that smile was enough to have any hesitance fading away. Seeing the warmth fill his usually so stoic face was worth the chance of getting caught. Finally, Graham’s eyes dropped to his watch and when he looked up at me, he was mock scowling and watching as I set my bag aside to approach him.

“What time do you call this?” he playfully demanded, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting?”

“Well,” I drew the word out, stepping between his parted legs and looking up into his downturned face, “I found your note purely by chance. How was I supposed to know that you’d left me a note? What would you have done if I didn’t even turn up?”

“I’d have left,” he shrugged, lowering his head the remaining distance to kiss me. Eagerly, I tilted my head up to cross the remaining distance. Regretfully, Graham drew away and brought a single hand up to tuck some of my hair behind my ear. Slowly, he admitted, “I’d have hung around long enough to realise you’d stood me up and head back to the common room. And then –” here he gave me yet another kiss, “ –I’d have sulked for days on end. Until you kissed me better.”

“ _Helga.”_ I tried to push away from him but he wrapped his legs around me as if to keep me hostage. Shaking my head, I gave in and sure enough, his legs slipped away. Satisfied, Graham continued to watch me with careful eyes. “What?”

“I should be asking you that,” he murmured; Merlin, he was able to read my deepest secrets with a single look at my face. I could never hide my emotions from him. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

Knowing he wouldn’t get anything further from me, knowing he wouldn’t know anything unless I actually chose to open up to him, he didn’t press any further. With a regretful sigh, Graham looked at his watch and sighed once more.

“I have to go soon – before anyone catches on.” 

This time, I was the one to sigh. I’d tried my very best to hold it back, not wanting to let him know just how much parts of our little arrangements had begun to get to me. I couldn’t say anything to make it better.

“You have me completely until I need to head back,” he promised, speaking softly. He took my chin in his hands, tilting it upwards to ensure that I held his eyes. Softly, Graham gave me an encouraging smile, trying to coax one from me as well.

I conceded. Giving him a smile – one we both knew was purely meant to make him feel better – I waited. He eventually released my face, a hand slipping round to tangle into the hair at the back of my neck. Sometimes, I wanted nothing more than to peer into his head, to see what was going on inside his head, but sometimes even the idea of it scared me. It absolutely terrified me that I’d find out just how one-sided this relationship was, how I was so head over heels for a man that I wasn’t sure returned the depth of my feelings. Sometimes, sometimes I felt like he did – love me as much as I loved him. But sometimes, I couldn’t fathom it; surely then we wouldn’t have to be so secretive? What was the need for all this secrecy?

For a moment, there was a flicker of a frown at his lips. It was gone in a heartbeat. Graham was cradling my face between his hands once more, lowering his head to kiss me again. This kiss was slow and steady and I _swore_ I could taste bitter regret on the tip of his tongue. Drawing away first, I breathed out shakily, against his mouth.

Graham pressed his forehead to mine, murmuring, “ _Parting is such sweet sorrow.”_

Unable to stop myself, I laughed, drawing back from him. Meeting his eyes, I struggled to hold back my smile as I asked incredulously, “You _read_ it?”

“You’re always carrying that bleeding book around with you,” he reasoned. “Sometimes I have to _distract you from it_ – I just wanted to see what you liked so much about it.”

“And did you find out the reason why?”

“Salazar no.” He reared back to shakes his head, scowling in blatant disgust. “I barely made it halfway through the thing.”

* * *

When it came to Potions, Hufflepuffs had to stick together. It was something we all learned a week or two into the first year because it seemed that Snape had some stick up his arse about Hufflepuffs. There were absolutely _loads_ of rumours circulating around the castle about why; ranging from him wanting to have been sorted in Hufflepuff and not making it, to being stood up at the aisle by a Hufflepuff bride. Personally, I didn’t think the latter had any merit – simply because I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to marry Snape. Who would want to marry someone who seemed to be unable to smile?

“You’re getting lost in your thoughts again,” Sebastian warned under his breath.

I glanced at the Hufflepuff sitting beside me, eyes lingering on the tie that was untied at his neck and looked more like a scarf than anything else. Merlin, I regretted sitting next to him; when Snape realised that he wasn’t dressed according to regulation I’d have a front-row view to his temper.

“You’re asking for a berating from Snape,” I muttered, shaking my head and praying that Snape was too busy walking around checking up on everyone’s potions to notice it.

“Any luck and the potion is going to explore in his face,” Sebastian grumbled, stirring the potion once before stepping away. He gestured for me to take over as he set about chopping up the mistletoe to add to the potion.

Stirring the potion slowly, I eyed him from the corner of my eye, “What even is your issue?”

“You don’t like Snape either.” He met my waiting eyes before scoffing, “Don’t pretend you don’t know that he’s the reason Suzi broke up with me – he kept me back for detention when I was supposed to be meeting her and she got sick of it.”

Rolling my eyes, I hastily looked down and into the cauldron when Snape approached our table. The last thing I needed was for him to get in trouble right alongside Sebastian. “Maybe you should’ve been a bit better behaved.”

“Oh please,” Sebastian grinned so boyishly that I could see the reason why so many girls revolved around him. And I certainly didn’t need to peek a few tables back to know that Graham was _not_ pleased with the sight of it. “If I better behaved you wouldn’t be around me. I’d be too boring.”

Shaking my head, I focused on the potion that we were supposed to be brewing but rather, it seemed like it was becoming more of sludge than a potion. This was _always_ the issue when Sebastian sat with someone who _wasn’t_ Suzi who seemed to be the only person who was ever able to keep him in line. Merlin, why the hell had _I_ been chosen as the sacrificial lamb?

As I continued to work on the potion, my eyes lifted suddenly when I heard Sebastian exclaim, “What the hell?”

Turning towards him, my eyes instantly lingered on _something_ that had been spilt onto his arm. Looking past Sebastian’s shoulders, my eyes narrowed onto Graham’s retreating back. Has he really needed to _prove_ his displeasure? The annoying prick looked over his shoulder as if expecting me to be pleased by what he’d done but I simply narrowed my eyes at him before starting to help Sebastian clean up.

Sebastian took the tissues from me, wiping at his sleeve as he grumbled, “What the hell is going on? Why would he do something like that?”

I simply shrugged, unable to give him an answer that wouldn’t get me in trouble with anyone. When Sebastian was finally looking to the potion, grumbling as he finally got to work – far too late at that – I turned in my stool to look at Graham. Graham, who continued to sneak glances at me from under his lashes, frowned when I scowled at him. Looking back to the front of the class, I tried not to fume; whose fault was it that we were a secret? It certainly hadn’t been my idea to keep things so hushed up and I knew that the reason behind his unnecessary jealousy was at least partly to do with our secret relationship. And Merlin, the reason behind all of this unnecessary secret-keeping, was because of his family’s beliefs – his father in particular. He wasn’t ready to face going against either of them.

_Defy thy father and refuse thy name_

Dismissing the intrusive quote, I tried to focus once more on the potion that was absolutely beyond hope. I could only hope that the lesson ended before Snape came to our table and that I could get out of this classroom before Graham tried to get my attention. Merlin, I was _not_ in the mood to put up with him in any way. I needed some time to think.

Although I wanted nothing more than to think than to hurry away from what was a _disaster_ of a potions lesson – that ended with Snape arriving at our table with all the disapproval in the world and with the lesson thankfully ending before he could take away points – I couldn’t. Not when Graham passed our table, be sure to look me in the eye so I would understand that he wanted to talk to me.

Resigning myself to my fate, I slowly packed my belongings to give me some more time to breathe, and I waved Sebastian away when he offered to walk me back to our common room. Instead, I waited until all my house had filed out and then I grabbed my bag, making my own way out of the room. Ignoring Snape’s eyes that trailed after me, I walked into the hallway and peeked around and found him nowhere to be found. It looked like he wanted to meet at our usual place.

I could just walk away, could just head back to the common room and ignore it all. But we needed to talk, I needed to talk to him. If I didn’t talk to him, then this would just continue to happen again and again. He had to be aware that this wasn’t a normal relationship, this wasn’t _good_ for a relationship. 

Finally arriving at our usual spot, I looked around and realised that I, for once, was the first here. I briefly wondered where Graham was since he’d been the one to walk out of the classroom first. But I settled in to wait – Graham would be here eventually. Spelling away the dust from the top of the table, I perched on top of it. Reaching into my bag, I rifled through it and drew out my newer copy of Romeo and Juliet – Rachael would be pleased to see I was using it.

Picking up from where I’d left off, I continued to read through it and waited impatiently for when Graham would be here. If he was going to keep me waiting around for him, then why was I even here? Good Helga, what was I even doing? Why was I even doing this?

Anne had always asked whether it didn’t smite my self-worth to be the dirty little secret that Graham didn’t admit to? I’d lied over and _over,_ telling her that it added a thrill to our relationship when really, I felt cheap. Like a mistress tucked away that could never be seen by the public. All I wanted to do was hold his hand in front of other people. That was all.

And yet – it was too much to ask for. How could a _Slytherin like him_ possibly be dating a muggle-born Hufflepuff? Especially when he was a member of the horrendous Inquisitorial Squad at that?

Graham, always having the knack to appear in the room the moment my thoughts began to spiral, walked in through the door. He didn’t offer me a smile and instead watched me where I was sat. Holding his eyes for a moment too long, I carefully marked my placed and placed the book on top of my knees, waiting.

“How long have Brent been hovering around you?” he asked abruptly, taking me by surprise.

Unable to stop my incredulous scoff, I asked, “Is that _really_ why we’re meeting right now?” When he didn’t retract his words, I hopped off of the table and hastily put my book back in the bag. “Did you really want to meet me so you could question be about _Sebastian?”_

For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t speak. If he didn’t want to answer me, he would clam up and not say a word, and I honestly didn’t expect him to say anything. And so, it was even more infuriating when he pointed out, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“ _Helga,”_ I said heatedly, shaking my head. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I tried my best to remain calm as I defended Sebastian, “He didn’t deserve for you to spill whatever that was on him just because he was _talking_ to me.”

“Talking?” He refused to believe me and I wasn’t surprised. The secrecy was driving him mad with delusional jealousy. I was quickly reaching my breaking point.

“What does it matter if he was doing _more_ than just talking to me?” I asked suddenly and Graham caught out by the sudden question, took an aborted step towards me. “For all he knows, I’m not in a relationship with anyone – not even in a flirtationship with anyone.”

“But you _are._ ”

“Yes, I am,” I agreed slowly, swallowing thickly. “I am, but no one knows it, no one has anyone reason to think I am. Just tell me – what is the point of dating in secret? If no one else knows, how long is this supposed to go on for?”

As usual, he had no answer. Of course, he had all the answers but he’d never give them to me. Not yet.

Graham moved to approach me then, stilling when I shook my head. Clutching the strap of my bag between tight hands, I murmured, “Don’t – please, I just need to have some time to think, alright? Can you give me that?”

There was a long pause. “Of course.” 

* * *

Graham always kept his word. He had promised me that he would give me time to think and that he would give me as much time as I needed. I knew he wouldn’t try to rush me, to try to sway my decision no matter how impatient he got at the time I was taking. And I did take my time – taking almost a week to think seriously about everything.

And no matter how I thought about it all, this had to be the end. Although it broke my heart, this was as far as our relationship could go. But I’d given him almost a year of my life now and I wouldn’t regret it – how could you regret being with someone who made your heart race so badly you thought it was going to burst out of your chest? I didn’t regret it, but I simply couldn’t continue to allow things to go on as they were now. I was just done with being a secret.

It took me almost a week to get the resolve to actually talk to Graham. And even then, I still hesitated before realising that I would have to tell him to his face. So, once I’d managed to gather my nerve, this time around I’d been the one to slip a note into his bag. He would come, I was certain.

The impatience and curiosity that had built up over our week apart would have Graham arriving on time, if not early to meet me. And so, I arrived early, settling down in our usual classroom and just waiting for Graham to arrive. With each ticking minute, I shot apprehensive glances towards my watch. Merlin, I hoped he was late. I hoped he turned up late so I could have more time to work things through in my head, to actually figure out what I was going to say to him. Because, despite how often I’d run this scenario through my head, I didn’t know how to actually _speak_ to him about this.

Squeaking as it opened, the door brought me out of my thoughts. Eyes instantly snapping towards the open doorway, I watched as Graham walked hesitantly into the room. His eyes sought me out instantly, offering me a smile and I returned it with a soft one of my own.

“Does this mean you’re willing to see me now?” he asked voice light in a way that told me he was struggling to navigate this situation. He had no idea what to do and frankly, neither did I. “Since you put the note in my bag and are waiting here for me?”

I waited silently still, watching Graham closely. His steps were hesitant as he approached where I still sat. Reaching the table, I was sitting on, Graham's hands came out slowly – as if not to scare me – and settled onto either side of me. Still, I kept my silence, studying his face up close and it was almost enough. The way my heart was reacting to his presence was almost enough to have me changing my mind. His eyes, earnest and so _so_ soft, remained on mine and I almost wanted to close my eyes so I didn’t have to look into them.

Instead, I reached out my own hands and taking his face in my hands. He searched my eyes, trying to make sense of just what I was thinking. No doubt he would fail – because _I_ had no idea what I was thinking either.

Breathing out shakily, I dropped my hands from his face. Reaching up and clasping the chain around my neck, I drew the necklace out. It hung low on my chest, usually hidden beneath my shirt where I’d left it from the moment, I’d first gotten it. Graham brought a hand up, holding the charm slowly between his fingers and _still_ not quite looking away. He held my eyes, even as I unclasped the chain from around my neck and removed it completely.

The charm slipped out of Graham’s hands as I took it, and set it aside on the table, “I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart –”

“I’m sorry,” I said again.

When it looked like he was going to say something else, I reached out and took his face in my hands one more. His eyes searched between my own, falling silent at the touch of my hands. Feeling my own heartbreak, I leaned in towards him and kissed him softly. He breathed out against my lips, eager to return the kiss and reluctant to draw away when I moved to leave. Eventually, he complied, drawing away from me and trying to understand everything that I just wasn’t saying.

“I’m sorry,” I said again, pushing at his chest. When he stepped away, I was quick to hop off the table. Leaving the room without another glance goodbye, I swore that I didn’t even breathe until I turned onto one of the main corridors.

_Thus with a kiss, I die_

* * *

Perhaps my life was taking a _bit_ too much after Romeo and Juliet – at least the tragedy aspect of it at least. I’d broken up with Graham, shattering my own heart in the process, only to find out days later that he was involved in an accident. An accident that had left him in such a state that the matron was preparing to send him off to St. Mungos because there wasn’t much she could do for him. Slytherin house was always so secretive when it came to things that concerned members of their own house and that was why – days after his accident, the information had leaked to the rest of the castle. And I swore, when the news got to Hufflepuff house, it felt like a bomb had been set off in my chest. Slytherin house was so good at keeping secrets that by the time I’d found out, Graham was going to be sent away tomorrow.

Even as I sat in the common room surrounded by my friends, I picked at the cushion in my lap and tried my best to listen to them. The conversation moved away from Graham, onto some other piece of news that –

“Go,” Anne said suddenly from beside me. I turned towards her, not understanding what she meant. She spoke again, lowering her voice so no one else would hear, “Go and see him. I don’t like him but still – _you do_. You need to go and see him if only to alleviate your own worries.”

“I don’t – ”

“I’ll cover for you,” she promised. When I still didn’t move, she gestured with her hands for me to stand, “Go.”

“I’ll be back soon,” I tried to promise, handing her the cushion as I prepared to stand.

“No, you won’t.” She shook her head, waving me away with a well-meaning smile.

I couldn’t return it, but I thanked her for being the push I needed to see him again. Part of me thought in some strange way I had caused this accident – this spiral of tragedies by breaking up with him in the first place. The more rational part of me knew that I hadn’t caused this. But Merlin, if his condition was as bad as I was thinking it was, then how would I cope if our breakup was the very last interaction we had?

With quickening steps, I hurried towards the Hospital Wing, not caring that I was likely causing a scene by practically running through the castle. It didn’t matter what anyone would say because people’s eyes were the last thing, I needed to concern myself with.

Finally making it to the large doors, I stopped in my steps and took a moment to catch my breath. I brought a hand up, resting my palm against the door and somehow still lacking the strength to take the last few steps. The door opened suddenly, making me stumble out of the way as a group of Slytherins drifted past, no doubt having just checked in on their housemate. My eyes trailed after the group, wanting to wait until they had all left to visit Graham.

Malfoy lingered behind, standing in the open doorway as the rest of the Slytherins walked away. I would have thought nothing of it, would have continued to walk into the hospital wing but his eyes were lingering on me. Turning to the younger student, I waited.

“Just go in,” he finally grumbled with a sigh.

Brows furrowing, and _not_ expecting that, I asked, “What?”

“Montague’s a poor sod.” Malfoy thought for a moment before speaking again, “His girlfriend won’t even visit him – despite the state he’s in.”

He drifted past me without speaking another word. I could only watch as he walked away, silently wondering how he knew. Of course, he knew _because_ Graham had told him and Graham had told him despite us agreeing we wouldn’t tell anyone. He really hadn’t been hiding me away –

Dismissing the thought for a time when I could really ponder on it, I carried on into the wing and scanned each of the beds. Finding Graham as he slept, I approached the bed and passed a table that was piled high with gifts from his friends and housemates. Breathing out shakily, I tried not to become overwhelmed by how still he was or how pale he was or how it looked like he was –

Instead, I sat beside his bed with a hand delving towards his. Two fingers pressed to his pulse, I let the steady beating beneath my fingers reassure me that he was alright. Regardless of how bad it might have looked, right now, his heart was beating. I removed my fingers, planning to return my hand to my lap so I could fidget with it as I wondered just what to say – if I should say anything. Instead, my eyes lingered on something he had wound around his wrist.

Grasping the familiar charm between soft fingers, I did my best not to give in to my tears when I realised that he had my necklace wound around his wrist. Holding his hand between both of mine, I pleaded wordlessly that once he was in the safe and professional hands of the healers at St. Mungos, he would recover quickly. Helga, he might have shared a surname with Romeo but if he wound up having the same fate –

I refused to even think about it. 


	2. Epilogue: 2 Years Later

_2 YEARS LATER_

It took Graham thankfully nothing more than a few months to recover and I used part of my summer to see him so I could remain vigilant at his bedside. It was whilst I was sitting at his bedside that I met his parents for the first time, stumbling through a tense introduction that left a lot to be desired. But, when Graham woke up, he was there to ease the introductions the second time. And Merlin, even now, I could remember the breath-taking smile he gave me when we both realised that we’d work everything out.

With the end of my time at Hogwarts, Anne and I had decided to move in together, knowing it was cheaper to live with a roommate and that we’d spent 7 years in each other’s space and we’d had all the possible arguments we could’ve had about our living habits. Really, ex dormmates made the best new roommates. One consequence of moving in with Anne was that she and Graham happened to see a lot more of each other; neither particularly liked the other and they didn’t _dislike_ each other either.

“I really don’t see why you’re so insistent on moving in with Oaks,” Graham complained quietly – but still loud enough for me to know that he’d said the words for me to hear. “I told you we should move in together.”

“And I told you,” I reminded from over my shoulder, watching as he helped me unpack my belongings, “that Anne and I had already found this place and put down a deposit before you offered.”

I kept silent that I wasn’t too fond of the idea of moving in with him – in my experience, Slytherin only children tended to be horrendous sharers. Helga only knew just how often we’d butt heads over the slightest of arguments. And frankly, with his father hovering around our relationship and looking for any cracks in our foundations, it was the last thing we needed.

Graham accepted my words, grumbling quietly as he did so. I shook my head silently, waving my wand at my duvet cover so it would sort itself out as I worked on my pillowcases. As I stuffed the pillows into the cases, I peeked a glance at Graham who glanced quizzically over the Rubik’s cube in his hands. No doubt coming up blank on just what he was holding, he set it aside and reached into the cardboard box he was looking through and whatever he found, had him scowling. I adjusted my pillows, fixing the duvet as he drew out my tattered copy of Romeo and Juliet.

“I just wish you’d let me buy you a new copy,” he sighed, holding a corner of the book between two fingers. He let it dangle from his fingertips, shooting me a look, “Really? This thing is falling apart.”

“Rachael beat you to it, like 4 years ago.” He delved once more into the box, drawing out a far less rattier copy but it was just as well loved. Scoffing, Graham looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

“This is _not_ a new copy.” He sighed once more, setting it on top of the older copy. “My offer to buy you a new one still stands.”

“I don’t need a new copy – those have character.”

He held my eyes dubiously, shaking his head. Reaching for the stack of books he’d collated on the edge of my vanity, he lifted them up and started to slowly fill my bookshelf. Crossing my legs under me, I watch as he worked, appreciating the stretch of his shirt over his shoulders.

“Sweetheart?” Graham started tentatively, interrupting my appraisal. When he turned to look at me, he looked at me in a way that told me he knew _exactly_ what I’d been doing. “You know, I actually read it the play all the way through.”

“You did?” He raised an unimpressed eyebrow at just how incredulous I was. “It’s just – you usually give up partway through.”

“I forced myself to finish it,” he admitted, taking the hand I held outstretched towards him. Holding mine between both of his, Graham settled down beside me on my mattress. For a moment, I just watched as he thought about something and I was so concerned about what he was going to say that my mind was already beginning to think of ways to comfort him. Sighing abruptly, he demanded, “Did you know they both _die_ at the end?”

I smothered the laughter that wanted to burst out of me. “I am aware.”

“What the hell kind of ending is that?”

“It’s what makes it a tragedy,” I explained with a shrug.

“ _No._ It’s what makes it _shit_.” Shaking my head, I knew that I currently didn’t have the time to argue with him over the ending of the play. “Neither of us are dying on the other, Capulet.”

“When you got in that accident,” I started hesitantly, knowing that I didn’t have to finish where my thoughts were. Instead, I ducked my head so he wouldn’t see the worry that always filled my eyes when I thought back to that time. Only when Graham reached out to nudge my chin upwards to meet his eyes, did I look up at his soft smile.

“That’s in the past,” he reminded me, and I watched as he once more headed to my bookshelf.

“I almost killed the Weasley twins,” I confessed guiltily, “When I found out that they’d been the ones to send you into that bleeding Vanishing Cabinet – Merlin, Sanaa had to hold me back.” 

“I wish I’d been there to see it,” he murmured distractedly, flicking through the older copy of Romeo and Juliet with a lazy smile. “When you get wound up – you’re a masterpiece.”

“Oh please.”

Graham snapped the book shut, pointing it accusingly towards me. “Did you only date me because you wanted a Montague?”

“Believe me – you’re no Romeo.” Before he could scowl, I added, “You’ve got more sense.”


End file.
